


eighteen

by orphan_account



Series: triplet striders au [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, m/m/m - implied, sorta sad????im in a mood, triplets au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4261194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's our birthday tomorrow." </p><p>"We're going to be eighteen."</p><p>"We should run away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> got into a mood so uhhhhhh heres this lol

You were born in the winter.

It's dismal, you think, staring out the window as you sit on Dirk's bed, cheek supported by your hand. The sky is grey, the entire city of Huston in a sleepy haze. Dave is sitting on the floor with his laptop on his stomach, humming a tune under his breath. Dirk has his fist shoved into the torso of a bot. And you continue to stare down on the city.

"We're better than them, you know." 

Your voice is sort of raspy, tired. Neither chides you, but one hums - which, you're unsure of, because you don't bother to look. You suppose it's Dirk. He may deny it, but his god complex is just as terrible as your own, while your other triplet tends to just bow to everyone. Weak. 

Not that you would say anything, you all have your boundries. Sure, you've overstepped your brothers and your own many a time, but it's not worth getting into at the monent. Instead, you'll just stare out this window. You'll lose yourself in the motion of the cars, in the sight of people flowing in and out of shops. 

"Our birthday is tomorrow."

Dave says it. It comes from left field and makes you turn your gaze from the city to him. He is still staring at his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. In his shades, you see the reflection of blue text, too light to be his "best bro"s. You wonder what Dirk would think if he knew that Jane was being hit on by Dave - it'd probably earn the same reaction as when you had that flirt-thing with Roxy. 

You don't bother to warn him about being decked in the face, only focusing back on the street. The room feels too small suddenly, even if it's the second biggest in the apartment. Cold, stagnant air has settled on your shoulders. You pull your knees to your chest, squint your eyes and continue to stare. It's quiet again. 

"We're going to be eighteen."

That's Dirk, always pointing out the obvious. This disjointed conversation doesn't seem to be going anywhere, however, for when you glance at him out of the corner of his eye he is still elbow deep in robo-torso. Figures. Sometimes you and Dave have to physically drag him away from one of the projects. 

You purse your lips and sniff, fingers curling against your cheek. If you don't throw in your own two cents again, then the heavy silence will return, and you can go back to counting cars. But, you have little self control. 

"We should run away."

"You say that every year, Hal."

"If we did it this year, they couldn't arrest us. Legal adults and all that good shit, Dirk. Ask Dave, his lawyer-in-training girlfriend knows all about it so he should have some info."

"Terezi and I aren't dating, asshole."

"She did suck your dick that one time. Remember, I came in to grab somethin' and the two of you were -"

"Not the same thing." 

"Hal, do you think it's the same thing?"

"Fucking totally." 

The conversation goes like this for a while. Almost in mapped out rotations you poke fun at each other - Dave, you, Dirk, repeat - until somehow you all wind up on the floor half-laughing at a lame joke that Dave reads off of his phone. It's weird, but you don't mind it, really. You hardly admit it, but your brothers are sort of cool. 

It only stops being fun when Dirk goes quiet, staring at the ceiling. Winter is sinking through the roof and into your bones and making all three of you sort of sad in a soft, quiet kind of way. 

"Maybe we should," Dirk says eventually, voice even, steady, just slightly lower than yours. "Run away, I mean." 

It's tense. Your shoulders scrunch up. You reach around and feel until your hand brushes Dirk's forehead. You give it a pat. "I wasn't serious." 

"I know." 

Dave is watching the two of you, laying on his side while you lay back to back with Dirk. "I think it'd be cool, to live without D or Bro, at least for a while. Probably wouldn't even notice we were gone," he says, sounding spacey, as if the idea is a great one. Maybe it is, you usually take your ideas for granted; usually one of their's is better.

You look back at Dave, who shrugs. Dirk turns around so that his face is pressed into the back of your neck and hair, "We should do it." It's muffled, but you make it out. 

"Yeah," you and Dave agree in unision. 

None of you make a move for the door, and sleep on the floor that night. Bro wakes you up by dumping cold water over your heads the next morning and at breakfast, D passes out the traditional birthday one hundreds. 

It's dismal, you think.


End file.
